Tuesday, February 17

Unfit

All because I left the snacks.

Winter. I knew, before we even decided to get pregnant the second time, that last winter was going to be crappy. It seems by adding an unexpected kid we also added another unexpected crappy winter. We're getting desperate. Last week we went to the park when the temp spiked to a balmy 60 degrees, and didn't leave until we couldn't feel our fingers. All weekend we looked forward to the library today. Thank heaven for the library. We got there in plenty of time for me to pick up my reserved books, let Mia play on the computer, and get good seats for the free circus show at 11. In my rush to get there in plenty of time, I left the snacks at home. The snacks! Why did we take them out of the diaper bag in the first place? I would have been better off leaving the diapers!

10:30, the girls start getting cranky. The library vending machine has water bottles. Hmm. If we don't get something to eat, they're not going to make it. Shredded Wheat only lasts three hours, and they ate at 8:00. Another glance at the clock, coats back on, and I pack them back in the stroller. Back to the car, buckle all three in, fold stroller, stick in trunk. Race to McDonald's. Hand them hamburgers to eat as we drive back. I can't believe Mia caught that cheeseburger- awesome.

10:55, Stroller out, one, two, three kids unbuckled, packed back into the stroller. Race back to the library. A man in a top hat and a lady in a clown outfit are standing behind two keyboards, a huge mixer, two amps and million wires. Whew- they haven't started yet! Unbuckle, coats off, while Mr. TopHat tells us some facts about the origin of the circus. Mia goes and finds a seat on the floor (which precise location is only known to me because a friend happened to see her and point her out. Thanks, Breezi- you got my back. ;D) The room is packed, there's nowhere to sit. I figure either the twins will want to sit by Mia and see what's going on, or I can squeeze in that spot of floor I see and pull them onto my lap.

Then TopHat whips out the bagpipes we heard him practicing earlier.

I realized today that if you put their names together, the twins make "Anree." And that's exactly what they were the second those pipes started. Both wanted to be picked up- lap was no good. Yes- I realize you each want your very own Mom. You have no idea how I wish I could clone myself. Or get rid of one of you-we-won't-go-there.

I spot a chair at the back of the room. A little girl is climbing in and out of it onto her Mom's lap. Hmm- and a kind of a path between the sitting people. If for some reason she says no, there's floor room- maybe the twins won't scream once they can see what's going on. There's a lady in a chair right in front of me trying to catch a photo of her kid at the back of the room. I tell her my plan to ask the mom of the kid at the back of the room if I can use the chair. "Is your kid back there? Do you think maybe you'd want that chair instead?" She looks at my whimpering twin still on the ground reaching to be held, "Oh, I can't walk back there, I have a bad back." Haha! Funny. Okay- what did I expect.

I think Anya weighs 35, Bree was 28 at our last appointment months ago. I can't get them all the way to my hips from the floor unless I have a little maneuvering room. Lady in the chair isn't budging. There's no good place to start. Hmm. I can pack the twins back up, which will cause a lot of noise, retrieve Mia, which will cause even more noise, tick everyone off and leave with three screaming orneries, or I can try for that chair.

I couldn't get the twins up high enough. As I picked my way through the "path" I grazed a lady's head with one of the baby boots, and made a very noticeable trek to the back of the room. The mom plopped the kid onto her lap, and we collapsed in the chair. When I thanked her again, she said she was glad- her daughter had refused to give up her seat to another lady earlier. Great, that lady is probably ticked at me, too.

Mia participated and had fun. Bree escaped twice to vigorously rock a sleeping baby in it's car seat, (there's no way that mom wasn't ticked,) but other than that she clapped and laughed and had a good time.

Anya whined. Ten minutes left, and she wanted to be held, but it was only okay if I was standing. Okay, except here's the thing, baby. I have a bad back, too! If you want me to be able to walk out of here, I'm gonna need to sit down now. It's just the way it is. No- she needs me standing, sorry.

Mia heard she was going to get a present at the end, so pulling her out ten minutes early would not only be kind of mean, it would probably tick everybody off when she started screaming bloody murder.

Pack up the twins. They whine unless we're moving. Strolling the babies around in the foyer waiting for the end. Why do I leave the house? We are unfit for public. We make ourselves and everyone around us anree.

Mia pipes up in the car on the way home. "Mom- that was a fun circus! I loved that circus! I got a necklace! I got a chocolate! There was a clown there!"

Fine. That's why I do it. The price is just always so high- even when its free! But it could be worse.

I don't care what all the country songs say. I'm not going to miss this. Not this winter, anyway. Bring on spring, baby, bring it on.

10 comments:

cari said...

You're a brave woman to take them out in public. I flew to Florida alone with the boys and everyone looked at me as if I were crazy. I'd love to see some of the looks you get. I'm glad Mia enjoyed it. You're a good mom to take them out.

Rhonda said...

Oh Summer my friend! My family is unfit for pubic too! We are a circus ourselves. When we go out in public people stare at the sheer number of us. Seriously? Does having 6 kids really make us look like martians? And then I will have teenagers fighting, picking on the youngsters, younsters that are wet/poopy/snotty/crying/screaming as if being tortured/screaming in excitement/laughing obnoxiously/spilling things/dropping things/switching seats/throwing food/running around...

Well you know the drill. I think. At times it's just a humiliating experience. Really. Other times I'm pleasantly surprised when they only do half of those things.

You deserve an award for even attempting the library. Oh and to pack em all up to get a hamburger and GO BACK? I would've closed that show down by that point. I hate packing in and out over and over!

Rhonda said...

OHHHH HECK NO! I just reread my last comment. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE that I didn't mean to say we were unfit for PUBIC...I missed the "L" I meant PUBLIC. So glad I didn't say "consumption" after that word. oy vay.

long day. I'm sorry.

Marsie Pants said...

YOU'RE not unfit for public, people who are unwilling to help you when they see you need help are unfit for public! Especially when you ASK them! Good thing your kids are cute, huh? People don't hate you as much when they're cute, right? At least, that's what I tell myself.

Breezi@ Not Your Average Fairytale said...

I felt so bad today for you! Poor girl, you just looked frazzled. I was trying to get Bree's attention as she was rocking that baby.. she just looked at me and gave me the cutest little grin! lol..
My little neighbor that was sitting by me just looked at you, back at me and was like "that woman is busy!". I was like.. yes indeed.

ohh.. and instead of the whole 'you'll miss this' thing...
I prefer 'this too shall pass'. It gives me hope :)

Eat some chocolate. It helps.

Kell's Belles said...

In the twins' defense, bagpipes kind of put me on edge, too.

But I hear you on wishing for winter to end! There's nothing like a packed winter library event to make you rethink ever leaving the house again. Ever since the wretched puppet show we attended last month, I have refused to leave the house without adult back-up. Spring can't get here fast enough!

Britney said...

On Wednesdays I've been watching a little girl Emily's age. So I have a 4 year old and two 2 year olds to care for.

When I'm out on errands with all three of them, endlessly buckling, unbuckling, folding, stowing, heaving, chasing, fretting, I think to myself... this is what it must be like to be Summer.

Bless you.

Summer said...

Haha! You guys are awesome. Sorry for whining. You guys totally made me smile, though.

Thanks, I needed that. Mwah!!

Unknown said...

No Sum...you aren't unfit for public. You are a single individual trying to take care of three children that don't completely understand what their surroundings mean yet.
Unfit for public is when you take three children and expect everyone else to babysit while you take a break. Which you don't do. Unfit for public is obnoxious children that get away with being obnoxious while the parents do nothing because the parents are just as oblivious...which you aren't.
I was in awe of your skill even when there were the two of us at the library! Even when the three of us went to dinner I was in awe. You just about need one person per kid, and here you are trying, and usually succeeding in getting your kids out of the house every single day...keeping them intelligently entertained at home....not pawning them off to barney and the tv all day long...cooking dinner while they play hide and seek in the pots cabinet... And you still find time to spend a Valentines with your hubby who is just as busy making sure your future is set and still spending time with his girls when he can. You two are an amazing couple, with amazing children. Believe me when I say, you are the last people I would call "unfit" for public.

The Garber Family said...

Wow. I'm tired hearing that. Remember the sweet,quiet library days with one child. Pick a couple of books. Read them together calmly. Check them out. Enjoy story time together where you can help her with all the actions.
Not so anymore. I try to get in and out of the library as fast as possible while Miles and Madelyn jump off couches and land headfirst into piles of pillows that have been snotted on by 100s of other kids and I'm trying to self-check out books b/c there's only one librarian available helping someone else with a fine.
Go down, blood pressure. We haven't even attempted story time.